


Now Is A Gift (that's why it's called the present)

by cute_nerds



Series: 2016 Fic Advent [8]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Literally just all fluff and no plot, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cute_nerds/pseuds/cute_nerds
Summary: It’s Christmas morning, and just like every other morning, Kyungsoo is woken up by a mumble.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8 of the 2016 Fic Advent.  
> This is the result of people for giving me unwarranted Chansoo feels...

It’s Christmas morning, and just like every other morning of his life as of 4 years ago, Kyungsoo is woken up by a mumble.

It’s low and rough, raspy – barely coherent enough to be words, and it’s definitely not Kyungsoo. He’s not a loud person, in any sense of the word; he has a quiet voice, a quiet presence and doesn’t even make any noise when he sleeps. The person in his bed is most definitely _not_ quiet, judging by the sonorous quality his words hold even when asleep, but Kyungsoo keeps his eyes closed a little longer to hold on to the last, lingering tendrils of sleep. Despite the soft mumbling, the bed is comfortable; there are some unnecessarily large limbs (again, not Kyungsoo’s) in the bed with him, but since one of them is an arm wrapped around his middle and others are legs, which Kyungsoo has tangled his feet with (it keeps them warm), he doesn’t really mind.

After all, he’d known when he’d started dating Chanyeol that he was Kyungsoo’s opposite in many ways – warm, loud, large – but he’d still gone and fallen in love anyways (or perhaps _because_ ).

So it’s Christmas morning, and Kyungsoo is woken up by a mumble, and instead of rolling over and trying to smother Chanyeol with a pillow, he just pushes backwards a little so that he can steal a bit more of Chanyeol’s warmth and smiles.

When Chanyeol’s mumbling stops, Kyungsoo knows that’s his cue – he can (and does) slip out of bed without Chanyeol waking. Stealthily, he pads towards the bedroom door, grabbing a sweatshirt and house slippers from the chair set nearby for this exact purpose, and slides softly into the hallway, pulling the sweatshirt over his head. It’s Chanyeol’s sweater, or was (like most of Kyungsoo’s sweaters are, now) before Chanyeol forgot about it and put it through a hot water wash instead of a cold one. It’s a bit big to make pancakes in, so Kyungsoo rolls up his sleeves and (with a perfunctory glance at the tiny fake Christmas tree that they have on an end table to make sure that the presents are still there) sets about gathering the ingredients he needs for Christmas pancakes.

He’s about halfway through when he hears a low groan and the sound of Chanyeol rolling out of bed, but he’s got his hands busy with spreading the batter into facsimiles of Christmas trees and gingerbread men. Last year Chanyeol interrupted him with a kiss (and another, and another, and another) and they ended up with pancakes that looked like some kind of mutant Christmas tree-gingerbread man hybrid. _Cold_ pancakes. Kyungsoo loves Chanyeol, but he only does this once a year, and if Chanyeol tries to sneak a hand, cold from washing, up his sweater again –

“Don’t you dare,” he says, frowning at a pancake man’s right arm, and yelps when Chanyeol does it anyways, spreading his large fingers against the small of Kyungsoo’s back. “Yeol, I swear-“

He’s spun around, ruining pancake man’s arm, and winds up with his nose being pressed into the front of Chanyeol’s sleep shirt. Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose at him. “You’re such a brat,” he mumbles, and Chanyeol tucks his other hand under his sweater.

“Merry Christmas,” Chanyeol sings, all smiles and messy hair, and Kyungsoo lets out a resigned huff, as if he’d _just_ decided that he’d tolerate the unnecessarily tall puppy in front of him rather than having adored him for several years. “Merry Christmas,” he replies, and leans into Chanyeol. “I’d hug you back, but my hands are covered in pancake batter.”

“I can lick it off,” Chanyeol offers, and Kyungsoo snorts.

“Or I can wipe it off on your shirt,” he says, and Chanyeol just laughs and presses a kiss to the top of his head. Kyungsoo is released, then, to rescue the pancake man and his third arm (oh well), and Chanyeol pads over to the cupboard to get out plates and mugs and make hot chocolate, which is one of the few culinary talents he possesses. Kyungsoo has trained him well; he even manages to remember to get out the little glass carafe for the syrup and is beaming proudly by the time Kyungsoo ferries the pancakes to the table.

“You get a gold star,” Kyungsoo deadpans at Chanyeol’s expectant expression, and sets down the pancakes carefully. Chanyeol sticks his lower lip out in a pout which means (of course) that Kyungsoo has to take a detour to kiss the protruding lip, going up on his tip toes to tug on it lightly before dodging out of the reach of Chanyeol’s eager hands and sitting down. He has pancakes to eat and presents to open, and _then_ maybe if Chanyeol’s lucky he can unwrap Kyungsoo as well.

Chanyeol puts unnecessary amounts of whipped cream on his pancakes, whereas Kyungsoo likes to add fruit, finding it too sweet otherwise. This arrangement works well, until Chanyeol inevitably gets whipped cream on his shirt, the table or the floor, or (on one memorable occasion) Kyungsoo himself. Today, though, Chanyeol’s excited for Christmas presents, and somehow manages to prevent whipped cream from going anywhere but the plate. Kyungsoo thinks he deserves another kiss, and sneaks one on his way to put the dishes in the sink; Chanyeol tastes like the whipped cream he’s been eating and Kyungsoo makes a small contented noise before carefully tucking the plates out of the way. He has underestimated Chanyeol’s desire for kisses, though, because as soon as he’s put the plates down he’s spun around once more, to see Chanyeol wearing a pleased expression and a smear of whipped cream on his lips.

“You have something on your face,” Kyungsoo says, amused, and Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows.

“Aside from my stunning good looks?” he asks, and Kyungsoo groans. “Just shut up and kiss me already, you dork,” he says firmly, and Chanyeol (as always) complies.

After a few minutes Kyungsoo can tell that Chanyeol does not have opening presents in mind as the next thing on the agenda. He’s backed Kyungsoo up against the counter and his lips are sticky and sweet and eager, and his hands are warm on Kyungsoo’s waist as they sneak upwards under his sweater. Kyungsoo feels warm and pliant and content, here in his kitchen on Christmas morning with his adoring boyfriend, and is tempted to just let Chanyeol pick him up and head back to bed, but the presents are calling and he really, _really_ would like to do that now while the moment is right.

“Yeol,” Kyungsoo mutters in one of the spaces between kisses, “M _m – Yeol_. Don’t you want to do presents?”

“You’re my present,” Chanyeol hums, and wraps himself closer to Kyungsoo, tilting his head back. Kyungsoo lets him, for a moment, and then fists one hand in Chanyeol’s shirt and pushes, slightly, causing Chanyeol to whine in protest.

“I think,” Kyungsoo enunciates, “We should do presents.”

Chanyeol wrinkles his nose. “What’s more important than kissing?”

Kyungsoo pretends to think about it, hands still tucked on Chanyeol’s hips, and then pokes him in the side. “Don’t you want to find out?”

The allure is undeniable, and Chanyeol capitulates, taking Kyungsoo by the hand and tugging him towards their tiny Christmas tree. “Is it a puppy?” Chanyeol muses, flinging his long limbs at the couch and tugging Kyungsoo down with him. Kyungsoo squawks at the sudden fall and finds himself, somehow, on Chanyeol’s lap, locked in place by a long pair of arms.

“I’ve already got you,” he points out. “I don’t need a puppy to take care of as well.”

Chanyeol pouts, but his attention is already taken by the presents; some from their families, others from friends. Kyungsoo hands Chanyeol things since he’s closer, and before long the two of them are immersed in wrapping paper and ribbons, occasionally turning to the other to exclaim or make a snide remark. Kyungsoo’s back is warming up on Chanyeol’s chest, and he’s going a little deaf from Chanyeol yelling excitedly in one ear, but there’s nowhere else that he’d rather be.

When they’ve finally unwrapped everything (including their presents to each other; Kyungsoo is so greatly anticipating using the blender that Chanyeol picked out that he doesn’t care how much Baekhyun’s going to tease him about the ‘romantic’ gift), Chanyeol leans back into the couch and wraps his arms more tightly around Kyungsoo and says sadly, “No puppy,” as if he hadn’t just been in transports of ecstasy over a new soundboard. Kyungsoo kisses Chanyeol’s cheek and says “There’s one more,” before wriggling of his lap and crossing to the tree. There’s a tiny little box nestled in the branches, pretending to be an ornament, and Kyungsoo’s fingers fumble as he tugs it off before turning to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol’s expression is curious, and Kyungsoo slides back into his lap, waiting for Chanyeol’s arm to settle around his back before he offers the tiny little box to him.

“I don’t think a puppy can fit in there,” Chanyeol muses, using his free hand to tug off the lid, “But…”

His eyes widen at the sight of the metal band in the box, and it’s a good thing that Kyungsoo is holding it, because Chanyeol would have dropped the entire thing. Kyungsoo clears his throat.

“Yeol,” he murmurs, and Chanyeol’s head turns to him, expression a mixture of surprised and nervous and incredibly, deeply fond, so much so that Kyungsoo feels a little uncomfortable in his gaze. “Um,” Kyungsoo says articulately, and tilts his head. “I was thinking.”

“You want to get married?” Chanyeol offers, his lips beginning to twitch into a smile, and Kyungsoo glares. “Not if you interrupt me,” he scolds, and Chanyeol laughs, though it’s a little breathless. Kyungsoo looks down at the ring and then back up at Chanyeol, who wakes him up every morning with mumbling and can’t use the kitchen to save his life and who manhandles Kyungsoo around the apartment with all the enthusiasm of an overeager puppy, and he just smiles and says, “You dork. Yeah, I want to get married. What do you think?”

And Chanyeol’s smile stretches wider and wider, lighting up his entire face, and he holds out his left hand for Kyungsoo to slide on the ring before taking both his hands, one newly adorned, and cupping Kyungsoo’s face to kiss his breath away.

“Best present ever,” he declares finally, when they come up for air, and Kyungsoo just clutches onto his shoulders and laughs, because – he has to agree.

**Author's Note:**

> I've now officially survived all my exams; now I'm free to catch up! I hope you liked this little ficlet!
> 
> Come hug me on [tumblr](http://cutenerds.tumblr.com) if you like!


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